The Basement
by Malinda4242
Summary: Bosco looks for a souvenir for Charlie and has an accident when a storm begins....will they find him in time? Bosco angst as always...
1. The Basement Chapter One

I did this one over at another site. Thought you guys might enjoy it. Was a special request from one of the 500 Gangs leaders...lmao......In case you hadn't been over there, I almost always write for Bosco, but I love ALL the characters and that INCLUDES Fred. And in this fic as in my heart....FRED IS NOT A CHEATER!!! This was written before the season ending, and I only changed 'where' a certain event happened, not that it happened. Nothing else was changed in this story from when I first wrote it.

So, hope you like this one. Bosco Angst...as always...hehehe ENJOY!!! Please read and review!  
  
**The Basement**.....Chapter One  
  
"How the hell did I get talked into this?" Fred Yokas was not a happy man, Faith his wife of 18 years watched him closely, but she knew he had to come to the final decision on his own. This was at her suggestion and she knew it wasn't easy for him. But, she also knew her sweet husband, if he'd decided to do this, he would do it and it would be okay.  
  
"I swore I would never let him in this house around my family again! Now here I am going to a damn ballgame with him! Faith, don't give me that look, you know I'm gonna do it cause I promised you I'd try to forgive him, but I don't have to be happy about it just yet!" He downed the last of his coffee, smacking the cup into the sink. Grinning behind her cup Faith muttered, "Of course not Fred, but thank you, if only for Charlie's sake." Giving her a sideways glance he couldn't keep up his grump, a small smirk on his mouth, "Yeah, I guess. Never thought I say it but I kinda miss having him come around like he use too. You know before he got stupider than usual." "FRED!" Faith pretended to be offended but he could see the laughter in her eyes, "He's not stupid, just gullible." "Yeah," Fred turned to look at her, "And explain that to me why don't you, how the hell can a 34 year old man, NYPD, raised the way he was be so damn gullible!? It's like he falls for EVERY sob story out there while he's knocking the same heads together! I just don't get your partner Faith, or should I say, ex-partner. Now that you're his Sergeant why don't you try to hook him up with someone who can 'educate' him some?"  
Laughing outloud now at Fred's exasperation with Bosco, "I don't know if there is someone out there like that Fred! He doesn't mean any harm, he just always seems to find the worst people to trust! Except for Sasha and myself of course." "Oh of course," Fred shook his head, 'well we better get going, we're picking him up at 5 o'clock," yelling down the hallway, "COME ON CHARLIE TIME TO GO! DON'T FORGET YOUR GLOVE!" "Oh did he ever answer when you called?" she asked watching him take their coats out of the closet. "No, but I talked to him yesterday evening, he said he'd be ready, was going to try to find an old baseball or something for Charlie in the basement storage, I don't know I guess something he got when he was a kid," Fred turned from the closet, "must be his way of making up with Charlie." "See," she smiled at him, "I told you he was trying. And I'm proud of you for trying too Fred."  
Quickly kissing Faith, he looked down at her, "The things I do for you!"  
"Yeah, but you love me right?" She giggled as he slapped her rear playfully. "Yeah babe, I love you, if I didn't, I wouldn't be doing this that's for damn sure!" Fred met Charlie at the door, "Got your glove? Get your coat on its cold out there tonight! Crazy weather! Hot yesterday, cold tonight, freak storm, I heard it snowed upstate, almost 2 inches!" "Wow dad!" Charlie exclaimed, "I heard it was 10 inches! Boy I wish that would happen here, snow day!" "Yeah, who you been talking too," Fred slipped his jacket on, then lightly pushed Charlie out the door into the hall, "10 inches, snow day, YOU WISH!"  
"I do wish, boy do I wish!" Charlies voice faded as Fred closed the door behind them.  
  
Faith sat on the couch a huge smile on her face, since she'd finally made up with Bosco, she'd slowly worked Fred around. Getting him to ask Bosco to go to a ballgame with him and Charlie had been a major accomplishment. Charlie had been asking to see his Uncle B for awhile now, ever since he realized that she and Bosco were talking again. Now she just prayed that neither one would say anything to piss the other off. Although when she thought about it, until she and Bosco started having problems, Fred and Bosco had been really good friends. Ballgames, hanging out, Fred always made sure when she came home for dinner that there was enough for Bosco too. Working on the cars together sometimes, and that Truck, for awhile they acted like she didn't exist, it was all about the truck. That brought a smile to her face again, that damn truck contest. Giggling at the memory of Bosco's face when she threatened him if he didn't get his ass on the other side she would come after him. Him taking off for the other side, convinced she would do just that. Fred coming home and telling her he'd won it, okay now that brought up another happy memory, of her and Fred christening that truck....  
  
"Mom, are you ready?" Emily asked standing next to the couch, her coat already on, "We're gonna be late!" "Oh sure," Faith replied jumping up from the couch, "just need to grab my purse and coat and we are out of here!" Walking downstairs, "So, do you think that Daddy and Uncle B are going to get along tonight?" Emily asked a slightly worried expression on her face. "Oh I'm sure they will," Faith smiled at her, "if only cause Charlie is there, you know neither one would do anything in front of Charlie to upset him Em." "Yeah, you're right," Emily nodded, "So what movie are we seeing, did you decide?" "I was thinking about Mystic River, heard it was really good," Faith replied, "won a lot of awards." "Sure I was thinking about that one too," Emily said opening the door to the building, "Amanda says her mom loved it." "Hum," Faith grabbed her coat around her tighter, "damn it is cold out here isn't it." They headed to the car, walking quickly.  
  
The night before:  
  
Hanging up with Fred, Bosco sat down to eat dinner. Reading the latest Car and Driver to come in the mail, he was also watching the news. Having two nights off in a row especially the weekend was a rare treat. Tonight he was going to relax and take it easy, catch up on some sleep, watch TV and vegge out. He wanted to go to a car show tomorrow morning, but except for the ballgame with Fred and Charlie he didn't have any plans. In fact in a few minutes he was taking his phone off the hook just to be sure he was not called back to work, or some other thing that would mess up his sleeping and relaxing. He had considered calling one of the women he had been seeing recently but decided against it. Too much trouble to get dressed up and go anywhere, that alone told him that he needed some down time alone. Sleep, that's what he really wanted to do, and as soon as he retrieved that ball from the basement, that was what he was going to do. Pulling doubles all last week had finally caught up to him, so starting to yawn already, he dropped the magazine onto the table. Picking up his half finished plate of food, he walked to the sink and set it in. Living alone had its advantages, leaving a plate of food in the sink wasn't going to get him yelled at. At least not until he himself had to scrape that dried stuff off tomorrow anyway.  
Stretching, he yawned again, then grabbed his keys, heading out the door. Locking his apartment door behind him, Bosco walked slowly down the hallway. He could hear his neighbors as they went about their evenings tasks. 'Okay, TV loud enough?' he thought as he passed Old Mr. O'Malleys door, 'guys deafer than a doornail.' Then he could hear the young couple who'd moved in a few months ago fighting, 'Ah, wedded bliss, remind me again how that is NOT what I want to do anytime soon.' Shaking his head as they became louder, he headed through the stairway door, taking the emergency stairs, if only to prevent having to listen to anymore of the neighbors bliss.  
  
Reaching the bottom, he exited into the hallway, heading right going to the basement door. Removing his keys from his pocket, finding the basement door key, he put it in the lock, frowning, he checked it again, "yeah, that's the one," tried it again, "damn what's wrong with this thing?" The key wouldn't turn, about that time he heard, "Hey, there Maurice, that key won't work anymore, here let me." Turning he saw the Super coming, stepping aside as Mr. Scott unlocked the door for him, "I just had the locks changed on all the doors down here, couple of the tenants have been mugged recently, got their keys stolen. Both idiots had their address's on the rings, so..." He unlocked the door finally, opening it. "You know you would think people would be smarter than that wouldn't you," Bosco shook his head, "but I should know better, I haven't seen it much out there." "No, I don't suppose you do," Mr. Scott laughed, "but then you aren't in the position to be dealing with the best of us are you Maurice?" Laughing, "No, I guess not, thanks, I probably will be here awhile, looking for a ball I got when I was a kid, going to give it to a friend of mines boy. We're going to the ballgame tomorrow night." "Nice of you," Mr. Scott replied, "Oh and don't worry about locking the door, I got them to put in the kind that locks when you close it behind you, so just take your time Maurice, no hurry. Oh and I'll have all the new keys ready by Monday for you folks, just come by the office when you're ready to pick it up, Mary will have them." "Thanks, I will," Bosco entered the door, "Goodnight Mr. Scott." "Goodnight Maurice," Mr. Scott nodded, "Oh and did you hear, that storm is suppose to be bad, might get 5 or 6 inches of rain with high winds tonight! And cold to boot! Glad my furnace is working!" "Yeah, me too! I hate cold weather and being wet! Glad I got tonight off!" Bosco laughed as Mr. Scott went back down the hall. He closed the door behind him, going to the back of the basement storage area to his bin.  
  
Thirty minutes later or so, still looking for the ball in the old boxes in the back of his bin, caught up in just 'looking' at stuff, he heard the winds and rain begin. As it continued the basement started to get colder, a slight shiver brought his attention to the fact that he'd only worn a tee- shirt and jeans. But he'd only expected to be down here a few minutes, hadn't counted on having trouble finding the ball or the reminiscing he'd been doing with all his junk. Now a yawn coming over him again, he put away the box he was opening. Deciding to tell Charlie he'd have to find it later, he locked his bin again, going to the door.  
Bosco grabbed the doorknob, turning it. Frowning, he tried again, it wouldn't budge. "Okay, what the hell?" he exclaimed, trying it yet again. Nothing, the door was not opening. Yanking gently on it as he turned, still not opening. "Oh I'm not believing this shit!" Now nothing gentle in his yanking or turning, he began to rap hard on the door as it still wouldn't open, "HEY, HEY MR. SCOTT YOU OUT THERE? HEY ANYBODY OUT THERE? THE DOOR WON'T OPEN!! HEY, HEY, SOMEBODY OPEN THE DOOR!"  
  
No answer, looking down at his watch in the dim light, he saw it was 11 o'clock, much later than he'd imagined it to be. "Damn! I could have sworn I was only down here an hour! CRAP!!" There was seldom anyone out and about when he got home after a shift. His apartment building contained mostly day workers, or older people who'd retired. He was one of only 3 late afternoon or night workers in the building, and the other two started their shifts at 11 o'clock at night. Plus, the basement was below the ground floor and there weren't any apartments there, just the office, laundry, and rec. room. His building was quiet, one of the reasons he'd picked it, in a quiet area too, another reason. Looking over at the small window, covered with bars he got a bad feeling as he saw water moving past it. Walking over to it, his feeling grew worse as he saw debris rushing past in the water. He'd not paid attention to the strength of the rain or wind earlier, but now it was making itself known. Things were banging against the glass now, and it was growing colder in here. Moving back to the door he began to bang again. Calling for someone to open it.  
  
Suddenly the power went out, plunging the entire building and street into black. As the light went out, he froze, immediately beginning to panic. Spending the night in a cold basement was bad enough, in a black as pitch cold basement was just not acceptable in the least. Renewing his banging on the door, trying to keep the fear and panic from his voice, he continued to call out for help. "PLEASE IS SOMEONE OUT THERE? I CAN'T GET THE DOOR OPEN!! HELLO? HELP!" It went unanswered.  
  
Giving up for now, taking deep breaths to keep himself calm, Bosco went to the window again, he knew the floor was clear to walk so it was a quick walk. He couldn't see out as he was below the level of the frame. Feeling around he pulled a box that was sitting to the side under the window, stepping onto it carefully he held on to the bottom frame edge, looking out now to see if anyone was passing.  
The water was now a few inches high on the window glass, and more debris flowed past, banging the glass. Without street lights, he was only catching flashes of view as cars passed on the street the apartment buildings front faced, their lights shining briefly on the window.  
  
He caught sight of a car coming down the side street, and the large wave it caused against the glass. What he didn't see was the floating garbage can it hit that it flung against the window, instantly shattering it.  
Hands coming off the window frames edge, attempting to cover his face as he felt the burning pain, as the force of rushing water blasting the glass into his face as it exploded through the bars like a bomb going off Bosco was knocked backward off of the box Arms flailing as he toppled Bosco hit the basement floor, striking first with his back, the wind forced from his lungs. His head followed, a sharp thunk sounding out as he was knocked unconscious. Lying on the cold basement floor, the water still rushing into the window, trickles of blood ran from the lacerations the window glass had opened on his forehead and cheeks. Soaked from the initial flow of dirty water Bosco was oblivious to the danger his situation posed as the temperature outside continued to fall along with the rain.  
  
TBC....?


	2. The Basement Chapter 2

Hope you have enjoyed his so far....Bosco's journey is just beginning....please read and review!

Malinda

**The Basement**

Chapter 2  
  
The sound of rushing water, spilling over the edge of the window frame, loud as it splashed down onto the box below the window. Spraying off it quickly soaked the floor beyond, running across the cement of the basement, rushing and entering every space it could find. Soon the entire floor was covered in rapidly rising water. The bins occupants, boxes filled with years of saving precious memories as well as out of season necessities becoming saturated as their bottoms sat unprotected in the swelling tide. Small bits of debris floating, swept along as the water reached the furthest corners of the large room.  
  
Another victim of the rising floodwaters lay helpless as the waters rose. This one beginning to wake in the dark basement as the cold of the water splashed now on his face. Clothing soaked from the initial blast through the window, he shivered hard as additional waters added chill to his skin.  
  
Turning his face to the side, attempting to escape the light spray from the splash on the box that was wetting his face, Bosco was brought to full awareness. Choking on the water he'd turned his face into, he rolled coming up to his hands and knees. Unsure of his whereabouts, disoriented in the dark, none of the waters journeys were visible to him. Nor it's origins, he only knew his head was killing him, and he was soaked. Coughing, spiting out water, he at first believed he must be on patrol, having somehow fallen into a ditch.  
  
But reaching for his radio, he quickly realized he was in his street clothes, sitting back on his heels he looked around him, still too disoriented to be fearful of the surrounding dark yet, unaware he was in a room, not outside. He only knew he was wet, freezing cold, and it seemed, alone.  
  
Standing carefully, his head protesting the action, he turned toward the sound of the rushing waters, a flash of lightening with its shock of thunder jolting him, brought his whereabouts back to him. He was in the basement of his own building, the window outlined for a moment showing him its broken edges, the water flowing unending over them.  
  
"Oh shit," he spoke aloud, his teeth already chattering as the cold made itself known, the stings of the cuts on his face causing him to reach up to touch them. Quickly he pulled his hand back away as the burning intensified at his probing. Tugging the end of his shirt from his waistband, pulling it up to wipe his face. The blood from his forehead was running into his left eye, wiping at it to clear it, he realized that was probably the worst one, so pulling harder on his tee-shirt, he held it to the cut. Wincing from the pain, he gritted his teeth as he put more pressure trying to stop the bleeding.  
  
Wondering at the same time, how long he'd been in here, he used his right hand to twist his watch around on his left wrist to the inside. Holding the shirt aside with his wrist he pressed the small lighted button, "Eleven thirty, well not as long as I thought," it had only been ten minutes or so since he'd been knocked out. Lightening flashes illuminated the room in bursts of strobe like visions, again causing him to startle as the booming of thunder seemed right on top of his building. He made his way to the door again, feet sloshing in the cold water, which was rising by the second. The three steps up to the door were still clear, and since it wasn't a sealed door, he knew the water would flood the hallway if it reached the top step, so drowning in the basement wasn't a concern to him.  
  
Freezing to death though was a concern to him, Bosco hated cold, and wet cold really pissed him off. The temperature in the basement was still falling. He knew it was supposed to get into the upper 30's tonight especially after the rain passed. Looking around he saw nothing to climb on other than the one box under the window, as the lightening flashed several more times.  
  
Banging on the door, he called out, but again, received no answer. Pressing his head in frustration against the door, he turned leaning his back to it. At least for the time being the top step was dry. Sliding down, he sat on it, his feet on the third step. Leaning back against the door, in just a couple of minutes he sat back up, "Damn metal," he complained, "cold shit!"  
  
His chest and stomach complaining of the cold air even more than the rest of him as they were exposed by his raising of his shirt to use as a compress. Remembering he had summer clothes in the bin he got up, slogging through the water, noticing it was deeper already he went to his bin. Reaching into his pocket for his keys, he paused, checking the other pocket, they were not there. "Oh damn itt!" he exclaimed as he remembered he'd not put them in his pocket, but had simply hung them off his pinkie as he'd fully expected the door to open.  
  
Sloshing back to the area under the window where he'd landed, he began searching for them, unsuccessfully. His flailing arms had slung them into the corner of the room, but he couldn't know that. So after several minutes of first kicking his feet along the floor under the water, then on his knees his right hand searching, cursing, he stood again. Now even more soaked, if that were possible, and colder, he went to sit on the steps. The water still rushing in the window as hard as it had started, this room now a sewer drain for the street above, preventing him from using that as a way to get passerby's attention. And that was dim hope to begin with as the only passersby in this storm would be in a car to begin with.  
  
Huddling over his pulled up knees, feet now on the second step as the water had now covered the first, he put his head down on his arms. He was getting sleepy from the late hour, cold, and the concussion he'd sustained that he seemed unaware of though his head was splitting with the pain now.  
  
Snapping his head up, his body shaking from the cold, "Come on Maurice, stay awake, OWWW damn!" The blood from his forehead renewed its flow as he jerked up pulling the shirt away from it. Quickly placing the cloth back over it, he sat with his elbows on his knees, holding his head, squinting as the lightening showed no signs of letting up. The immediate ripping of the thunder following the flashes. Jumping as each bolt and crack hit, "Well, at least its not dark now," he smirked, his stomach knotting at the thought of the storm passing and the absolute darkness renewing itself.  
  
Trying not to think about it, he sat, waiting for someone to come past the door, or even the window.  
  
Soon though his eyes started to close again, and this time he didn't startle awake. In a few minutes he was asleep on his knees again, arms folded across his stomach trying for warmth, the forehead cut forgotten. Deep breathing now accompanied the sound of the falling water as he slept through the rest of the storm, the only sounds heard between the thunder's crashes as the water continued to rise.  
  
TBC...


	3. The Basement Chapter 3

Fred and Charlie arrive....is it too late? Hope you are still enjoying....please read and review!

Malinda

**The Basement**

Chapter 3  
  
"Wow Dad, look at that!" Charlie shouted as Fred drove the truck slowly down the flooded street, "That storm did this?"  
"Guess so Charlie," Fred carefully maneuvered the large black Ford around an abandoned car, "I didn't hear about this on the news before we left the house. Hard to believe they would have missed this. And I can't believe its still flooded!"  
  
"Think Uncle B's car is under water?" Charlies eyes were wide at the thought of the blue mustang being like the old chevy they'd just passed. "Na," Fred grinned over at him, knowing what his concern was, "I'm sure Bosco got it out of here, you'll get to ride in it again." He reached over ruffling Charlies dark brown hair. "DAD!" Charlie was horrified, "I'm 13, don't do that, what if someone sees?" Glancing over at him mystified, "Oh lord not you too! You know one hormonal teenager in the house is enough Charlie! Anyway, I hope Bosco made it back home when he moved his car," Fred was sure he knew him well enough that if flooding was predicted for his neighborhood, Bosco would have carried that car on his back if necessary to get it to dry ground.  
  
He was stunned when arriving finally at the apartment building, the mustang was sitting out front, in the flood waters. "What the hell?" Fred parked the truck, sitting stunned, "Damn must have come up fast, that or he lost his mind!" "Stay here Charlie," opening his door, Fred hopped out, knowing he would get his jeans wet, but not concerned anymore, something wasn't right here, "I'm going get Bosco, I'll be right back, here," he tossed him his cell phone, "lock the door and you know how to use that if you need help."  
  
"Sure Dad," Charlie saw his Dad's face and now he was concerned too. Sitting quietly he watched Fred wade through the receding waters to the front door of the building.  
  
The night before:  
  
The blackness of the night was solid, as the clouds remained in place, the electricity off. Quiet reigned now as the storm violently drenching the city finally passed away.  
  
The waters from the street, still claiming the basement as its own personal sewer, made their ways under the door now, flooding the rest of the basement. As the waters began to fill the lower rooms and to rise, the basement level began to rise again also. It took only an hour for the water to reach another foot inside the room. Now Bosco woke up from the cold water surrounding him.  
  
For the time being forgetting again where he was, he panicked. Standing, he slipped from the steps into the deeper waters. Landing on his hands and knees, he quickly stood up as the water splashed up against his chest to soak him again. Reaching him to his knees now, the waters swirled out away from him, returning quickly to wash gently against him. In his panic he became disoriented, moving away from the door to the center of the room.  
  
Bombarded with swirling visions as his eyes refused to adjust to the pitch-black, he blinked rapidly his breathing quickening as he attempted again to decipher his whereabouts. Holding his eyes open so wide was painful, but it was as if he had no control. His mind cloudy from the concussion, in its fear was determined to see in this compete lack of visual stimulation.  
  
His breathing soon out of control, his fear of the dark grabbing hold of him, his panic grew. His breaths rapid and short Bosco turned around in a circle seeking some light, but found none to reassure him. Arms crossed over his chest, hands under his armpits tightly held to him as his fear took over now. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," he spun around again searching for explanation, head pounding in rhythm with his pleas. Bending, then standing again he fought for calm as his fear grew. "Get it together Maurice, get it together man," his fight was as much with himself as the dark surrounding him and he knew it. But it was a fight he had yet to win in his life. And he wouldn't win it now.  
  
Staggering forward, he came upon metal cages. His shoulder smacking into the rear edge of the second row of bins, he threw himself away from them at first thinking he'd run into someone in the dark. Everything he came into contact was potentially dangerous to his fearful mind, his hands now up before him as a shield against further attack Bosco's fingers came into contact with the thick wire of the cages. Grasping onto it as if it were a lifeline he pulled himself along the 'wall' of wire. Finding the nearest edge he blindly felt the empty space between the rows, quickly pulling his hand back to safety as the blank space was to his mind filled with dangers waiting to find him and like the monsters of his childhood, devour him. He had no intention of seeking them out.  
  
A metal lock box, small in size floated on the waters inside a bin near him. His quick movements, causing a small wave, tossed the box against the thick wire creating a banging sound. Bosco jumped as if someone had grabbed him. Giving a cry of fear, he backed away his mind refusing to register the sound for what it was, causing him to renew his panic. Turning, abandoning the safety of the wire he fought his way through the waters, hands held before him now reaching for something and yet nothing. The irony of letting go of a safety 'net' and reaching blindly for the unknown, after having just refused to do the same with the 'blank' area not lost on him but he was at this moment incapable of stopping and reasoning out his choice.  
  
Coming upon the doorway and steps again, he fell over the steps coming down hard against the door. Hands grabbing he found the doorknob. Pushing and pulling repeatedly he fought the door trying to open it, yelling out now for help. His panic now full blown, Bosco screamed against the door, banging furiously on it as it refused to yield to him.  
  
Upstairs in the dark of their apartments most tenants slept on unaware of the lack of electricity in the building only grateful for the peace after the storm. And those awake were busy with their own demons finding flashlights or lying in the dark trying to get to sleep. The young couple who earlier had fought, now making up by romantic candlelight. All unaware of the flooding of the basement or the terror filled man trapped within.  
  
Fred reached the steps of the apartment building. Noticing the waters flowing across the bottom most step he knew from the water mark that during the worst of the storm it had reached as high as the second step, "Damn I can't believe the stations didn't report this," he mused as he climbed them. Buzzing the apartment for Bosco he waited, looking back at Charlie who was watching him nose pressed against the glass. Chuckling at him as he saw Charlie stick his tongue out and lick the glass Fred called out, "Hey you're gonna be cleaning that whole truck you keep that up!" Well, maybe he was 13 but sometimes he still did little boy things and Fred was glad of it. He and Faith worried about the kids growing up to fast, but Charlie didn't seem to be in a hurry just yet.  
  
Not receiving an answer to his buzz, Fred tried again. Waiting a few minutes more, watching Charlie play with the phone, he finally buzzed another apartment. A woman came to the window above him, calling down to him, "Hey, who are you looking for?" Glancing up, Fred called back, "Boscorelli! Can you buzz me in? We've got a ballgame to go to and he's late!" "Who are you?" she narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, "I've never seen you before." "Well," Fred grinned up at her, "I've never seen you before either, so we're even!" Drawing back a bit, she sized him up, "EVEN you say, well, do you have ID? Cause I know he's a cop, are you one?" "No, but my wife is his partner at work, Faith Yokas?" Fred tried a different approach as she seemed reluctant to help. "FAITH!" she exclaimed, "Well why didn't you say so! Faith got my son out of a jam a few years ago when that Maurice wanted to lock him up! Sure, you must be Fred, heard a lot about you when she was helping me." Glancing at the truck, "That your boy? Charlie?" "Yeah, he is," Fred surprised not being a strong enough word, "You know Charlie too?" 'What the heck?' he was thinking, 'did Faith bring him here?' "No," the woman replied, "but I hear about them and you from Maurice once in a while. He's a nice boy, when he's not on his high horse wanting to lock up my kid and he thinks a lot of your family. I'll buzz you right in."  
  
Fred was standing bemused when the door buzzed, he quickly opened it stepping inside. Taking the stairs and not the elevator he soon was on Bosco's floor. Knocking on the apartment door, he waited already sure there would be no answer. After a few minutes, he headed back down.  
  
Reaching the first floor again, he saw a man coming towards him muttering to himself, a flashlight in one hand, a small toolbox in the other. Nodding at him Fred heard him talking about the basement being flooded.  
  
He almost went on, but something stopped him, looking out the front door he saw the mustang sitting there. 'No, something's wrong, he would never leave that car to flood,' turning Fred asked the man passing as he saw the name tag on his shirt, "you the super here?" The old man stopped, glancing up at Fred as if seeing him for the first time, "Who are you?" "Friend of Boscorelli's," Fred smiled at the man, "I was suppose to meet him here, but he's not answering his door." "Well how did you get in if he didn't buzz you in?" the old man frowned at him, looking him up and down as if sizing him up for calling the cops, like the woman earlier. "Lady on the second floor opened the door, she knows my wife, Bosco's partner Faith Yokas," Fred quickly reassured him. "Oh, well yea, I know Faith she helped Della's kid out a few years ago. Maurice wanted to put him in jail, ask me he should have done it. Kids no good. I'm the super, names Scott. As far as I know Maurice is still home, his cars outside. Shame that," he was shaking his head sadly, "real shame, I thought he had more respect for that car than to let it sit in that water. Never know do you, what some people will do."  
  
"No," Fred looked out at the car again, "guess not. Anyway if you see him, tell him I came by will you?" "Do I look like an answering service?" Mr. Scott groused, "Besides I'm gonna be up to my neck today in a flooded basement. Whole damn thing flooded, every freaking room from the looks of the water on the steps down there. Gonna take days to clean that up, tenants are gonna be screaming for my head when they see how much stuff they've lost. Good thing we got insurance huh?" "Good thing," Fred agreed. He nodded to Mr. Scott and began to walk away, "Thanks anyway, sorry to bother you."  
  
Just as he reached the front door, Mr. Scott called out, "Hey, are you the guy who's kid he was in the basement looking for that gameball for last night?" "Yeah, he was going to give it to my boy Charlie," Fred smiled, "Did he find it?" "Don't know," Mr. Scott replied scratching his head, "I left him down there after opening the door for him, new locks, tenants don't have keys yet, didn't see him after I went upstairs." Fred froze looking past Mr. Scott, just as Mr. Scott had a 'dawned on' look come over his face. "You don't think," Mr. Scott paled, "he wouldn't still be down there would he?" "No," Fred shook his head, "why would he? I mean it's not like he would stay down there if it was flooding. He probably went to get something to eat and couldn't get back in time." He laughed, "You have a good day, sorry about the flooded basement."  
  
Leaving the steps he headed to the truck, looking again at the mustang, as he reached the truck door Fred knew he was going back in the building. If only to reassure himself that Bosco wouldn't have been stupid enough to stay in a flooding basement. He felt stupid himself for thinking it, but couldn't stop himself from telling Charlie he would be back in a few minutes, again.  
  
In the lobby, Mr. Scott having let him in as he was waiting for the people to come with the pumps for the basement, Fred asked, "Think I could go down there? Take a look around? Just to be sure you know?" "You really think Maurice would not have left?" Mr. Scott was now the one shaking his head, "There's at least two feet of water in the hallway down there. I don't know..." "Hey, if it looks dangerous, I'll come back up," Fred knew he was going to regret this, and if Bosco came in while he was down there with some chick, Fred was gonna give him that pounding he'd promised him last year. "Oh what the hell," Mr. Scott laughed, "you can tell me if you see where the water is coming in from. Sure go ahead, and don't worry, power was out, but I called the city and they said they would turn it off just in case. Been off all day, tenants are pissed but better pissed off than burned up right?" "Right," Fred remarked as he opened the basement door, reaching out he took the flashlight from Mr. Scott.  
  
Coming off the bottom step onto the basement floor, he estimated it more like 2 and a half feet not two deep. Wading through the dark hallway, Fred reached the first door, putting the key in the lock, he opened it, but it was hard as the water pushed against it.  
  
"Bosco you in here?" he called out, feeling more foolish by the second as no answer came to him. Stepping inside, Fred shone the light around, seeing it was a workout room, not the storage room he was seeking, he went to leave but the door pushed by the waters closed on him. The latch clicking into place. Thinking nothing of it, he grasped the knob turning it to find it locked. "What the hell?" he quietly exclaimed, trying to turn it again. It wouldn't budge. Banging on the door, as there was no key hole on this side Fred called out to Mr. Scott to come and open the door for him. After a few minutes he heard the lock being opened.  
  
Pushing, hard against the door, Fred forced it open. Standing now in the hallway, "What happened? Why couldn't you get the door open?" Mr. Scott asked him perplexed. "I'm not sure, it was locked from the outside I guess," Fred turned the handle on the outside of the door. It turned easily, reaching around he tried turning the inside handle, it wouldn't budge. "What the hell?" Mr. Scott frowned, "That shouldn't happen!" He tried the door himself to find the same thing.  
  
Fred looked over to see Mr. Scott turning to look down the hall, "They put the lock in backwards? I don't understand how that can be, it should lock from the outside, and be able to be opened from the inside for safety." His expression one of concern now, "Do you think they're all like that?"  
  
"Oh god," Fred moved away from the door, "where is the storage room Mr. Scott? Which room is it?" "The third one down, near the end of the hall," Mr. Scott was moving already, but Fred pushed past him, shoving his legs through the water he made his way rapidly to the door.  
  
Keying the lock, he began to push against the water behind it, Mr. Scott now reaching him, assisting him. The door was nearly impossible to budge, but they slowly made it open, water poured out into the hall, quickly leveling off allowing them to open it more, "BOSCO?" Fred called out, "ARE YOU IN HERE?" Mr. Scott shone the light into the basement, at first they saw no one, just the broken window, still being used by the waters as a sieve into the room. Faint light was coming in with the waters, as Fred stepped down into the room. Turning back he took the light from Mr. Scott, again calling out, "Bosco?" "Maurice?" Mr. Scott adding his voice as he stood on the top step watching Fred search the large room, "Maurice are you in here?"  
  
"Bosco?" Fred stepped around the second set of bins, "Are you....Oh my god.." his voice becoming a hoarse whisper, turning to Mr. Scott, his voice ragged, "Call 911, now." Seeing his hesitation as Mr. Scott began to come down to him, Fred raised his voice, "GO CALL 911! NOW!"  
Mr. Scott his face full of fear nodded turning to leave, as Fred started forward, his voice quiet in his dread, "Bosco?"  
  
The emotion in his voice spurring Mr. Scott to near running in the flood waters to do as Fred commanded.  
  
TBC....


	4. The Basement Chapter 4 The End

** Will he be saved? Thanks for the reviews....and as always..ENJOY!!!**

** Please read and review...**

**Malinda**

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**The Basement**  
  
Chapter 4  
  
During the night before:  
Screaming at the door, banging on the door, kicking the door, nothing was opening that door, or bringing anyone to help him get it open. Fear and frustration combining he sat down hard on the steps, back against the door, unmindful of the coldness of the metal now.

Hand above his head holding on to the knob, refusing to release it, as if holding it would make the darkness less. Head pounding in rhythm to his heartbeat, dizzy with the concussion he was feeling sick as well as numbingly cold. The water was now on the steps, sitting down, up to his waist . Bosco could hear the water rushing in, and now remembered from where. His eyes tight closed against the dark now he found his fear of the dark tempered with the fear of drowning in the dirty basement waters. And that tempering began to make the dark less menacing to him.  
  
'Hard to fear monsters in the dark when you're about to drown huh Moe.' his brothers voice coming to him from his memories. 'Yeah Mike it is, is this how you felt?' he asked the nothingness surrounding him.  
  
No answer came. Mike had been dead now for 6 months. Tortured, dismembered, left to be found to trap him, punish him. Killed before Moe could help him. Victim of his own addictions, victim of those he'd pissed off trying to escape the same. Mikey had died alone, leaving no one but Moe and Rose to grieve him. Bosco didn't even consider his dad in his thoughts, wasn't worth his time.  
  
Mikey's death was one of the reasons he'd agreed to go to the game with Fred and Charlie. One of many, but a deciding factor. At one time, before Faith and he had come to disaster as partners, before Cruz, before a lot of things, he and Fred had been friends. Charlie had called him Uncle B and Em too sometimes. His own family in shambles for years, he'd gratefully taken them as his new family. But he had screwed it up badly, much as he'd done a lot of things in his life.  
  
When Fred had called for the first time in a long time he'd found himself looking forward to something. Looking forward to a second chance at mending a friendship, maybe even becoming 'family' again. The 'maybe' part he had shut from his thoughts as soon as they'd tried to form it. But the hope of someone whom he'd at one time been buddies with maybe returning had helped him say yes when Fred called. He was tired of being 'alone'. The counselor had been after him to 'get out' and do something besides get drunk. Besides the many other self destructive behaviors, his isolation being one of them, that had plagued him for so long now.  
  
His breakdown after Mike died had scared everyone, but they had no idea of how scared he himself had been when it happened. He was suppose to be the strong one, the one with the answers. The one his mother leaned on, Mike leaned on. Instead he'd gone nuts, fighting the others after his mother had almost died too.

After the attack at the hospital he'd had enough, could take no more One night after a drunk escapade at a local bar he was thrown out for fighting. Screaming at the bouncer like he was dying himself, and in a way he had been. Later at home, instead of going to be with his mother or letting anyone help him, he'd instead gotten further shitfaced. Torn his apartment to hell and back. Destroyed everything he could get his hands on. Then he'd left when the neighbors had yelled through his door and told him they'd called the cops on him. 'Boy was that rich Mikey, Moe gets the cops called on HIM bro.'  
  
Driving his mustang as fast as he could he'd blown a red light. A cruiser sitting clocking him as he did so later said he was doing 95 in a 35 zone. 'Damn good thing the street was empty huh Mikey?' They'd stopped him after he hit a parked car, well actually 4 parked cars. He'd slowed down by the time that happened, had seen the lights behind him. Ended up scraping the side off his mustang.  
  
Jumping out his gun in hand he was immediately screaming at the cops to stay away from him.  
  
Turns out it was Sully and Ty on patrol that night. Bosco had screamed at them to leave him alone when they tried to talk to him. Finally holding the gun under his chin he told them if they didn't leave he'd pull the trigger. Other cars arriving, Sully had called a bus for help. He'd told the other officers to stay back and out of the way.  
  
Then he'd talked to Bosco about Mikey.  
  
Talked about how Mike had looked up to Bosco, 'Yeah and we see where that got you huh Mike?' But at the time Sully added how he'd neglected to tell Bosco how sorry he was about what had happened at the cabin when Sully had been hallucinating and had almost killed him thinking he was someone else.  
  
Then Sully told him that the thing that Bosco had told him that night had mattered. That HE mattered.  
  
"What if someone else is out there waiting for you to help them? Someone who doesn't even know you can help. Someone who just needs what YOU have to say? No bullshit, just the straight stuff like you tell it. If you kill yourself now Maurice...'Hey Mikey that was the first time he called me by my name, ever. Hell first time I knew he knew what it was.'...then what happens, huh? You're not there, they could die.' 'Boy Mike I tell you I was getting pissed off! Hell I'd used that crap on him, on you, on lots of other idiots who couldn't face the reality of their life. But you know what, for some damn reason having ole Sully say it....helped. I didn't even notice when the medics showed up, or Swersky. I put that gun down for two seconds and the next thing I know I get jumped on by 6 cops. Don't really remember much, just Sully yelling at them to let me go, Swersky was yelling at Sully, then my arm burning and then nothing.'  
  
He'd woken up in the hospital. 'That damn Carlos sedated me! Couldn't blame him, the way I was waving that gun around they couldn't take any chances.'  
  
These last months had been hard. But it was getting easier. Then this. "Just when something goes right in my life Mikey..it turns to shit again bro. Why is that? What did I do to make God hate me so much? I did all the right things, took the hard choice instead of the easy one. Get the bad guys. Don't be a drunk, don't do drugs, don't, don't, don't! It use to be so black and white Mike. Now everything's gray, only instead of being easier its harder. I can never understand how someone can just do the things to themselves that cause them and so many others so much pain. Yet I end up doing it too and I made the HARD choice. I did it RIGHT DAMN MITT!" Letting go of the doorknob he put his hands over his face, crying.  
  
'No, Moe, you just did it your way,' Mikey's voice came to him again, 'you did what was easy for you. Sat in judgment of all of us on your pedestal you put yourself on. Life is hard, and its not black and white, you're right it's mostly gray. You keep falling off because you never learned that. Like you not forgiving Dad, or Mom even, or me, Moe. Sure I made choices that left me dead. But I didn't do it to hurt you, Moe. You keep sitting on that pedestal and you're gonna be sitting there by yourself for the rest of your life. Life isn't easy, people are flawed Moe. Even you. Its not about how perfect you can be bro, its about how loving and forgiving you are. Everyone makes mistakes. Only thing is, everyone knows that except you.' "NO," Bosco cried out, "I know it now too Mike! I don't want to be alone! I don't want to die here alone! Please!"  
  
Standing he stepped off into the waters, desperately wading through to the window where the waters flowed in still. "HELP! HELP! PLEASE SOMEBODY! I'M DOWN HERE!" Yelling for several minutes he finally gave up as his stomach, clenching from the agony of the pain in his skull, bent him over. Holding himself tightly, moaning now, he staggered away from the window. One hand reaching out he came into contact again with the bin wire. This time instead of recoiling he held on, moving along the wire cages until he reached the back wall between two and three.  
  
There was a ledge sitting about two and a half to three feet off of the floor, he didn't even remember it being there. Had intended to try to climb up onto his bin to see if the opening at the top was high enough for him to squeeze through. He knew his boxes were tall enough to get him out of the water. But now he pulled himself up onto the ledge. Leaning back against the side of the frame surrounding it, he lay his head against the brick wall to his right. Knees pulled up as he fought the nausea caused by his head injury.

'I'm here Moe, I'm here,' Mikey's voice calling to him, 'Hang in there bro, don't give up Moe.' Whispering, "Mikey, don't leave me alone, please." 'I won't Moe, I'm here with you, I'm here. I'll never leave you Moe, remember we promised each other, we'd never be alone, we're family Moe, always,' Mikey whispered back. His head pounding louder than before he soon passed out from the pain and from the cold.  
  
The dark clouds began to drift away finally, joining the rain that had left during the very early hours. Daylight, weak and gray began to drift into the window, beams riding the water into the basement, shining down into the waters swirling on its floor. Water that continued to rise.  
  
Fred finding him:  
  
"Bosco?" Fred made his way to him, "Bosco, can you hear me?"  
  
His face covered with dried blood, unconscious, chest deep in the water that Fred knew had been deeper just a minute ago, Bosco pale under the red of the blood was to his relief breathing. Reaching him, "Bosco," he gently shook his arm, but got no response. "Damn you're cold as ice!" Fred saw the gash on his forehead among other small bloody cuts and figured he must have been standing in the window when it broke. Again shaking him, he noticed the bloody matted hair on the back of his head. "OH crap," he exclaimed softly, "Bosco!" Attempting to rouse him now not knowing when it had happened or how just that he needed to wake him up.  
  
"Aaahhhhhh," Bosco finally responding to him rolled his head over his eyes slowly opening. Glazed over they immediately began to close again. "NO!" Fred yelled attempting to bring him around, he knew that he was too cold to really be responsive but until help came Fred was going to try to keep him awake. "BOSCO!" yelling, "WAKE UP! COME ON STAY WITH ME!" rubbing his shoulder hard, he was somewhat relieved when Bosco startled at his yelling, opening his eyes to glare at him.

"Shush," he slurred, "sleep." "Oh no," Fred told him, shaking him again, "no, no, I'm not explaining to Faith why you died down here mister! Wake the hell up!" "Faith?" Bosco asked trying to push Fred away weakly. "Yeah," Fred 'reminded' him, "you know, 5'10" mean, yells a lot, my lovely wife, your bossy partner? That Faith! So unless you WANT her to kill me, wake the hell up!" "Oh yeah," Bosco opened his eyes wide staring at him, "her." "Yeah, her," Fred grinned, "how did you manage that?" Pointing to the back of Bosco's head. "Don't remember," he tried to close his eyes again but Fred poked him in the chest shaking his head at him when he opened them again. "Keep them that way," he told him.

"Trying," Bosco replied shivering now, "sleep." "NO, no sleep," Fred rolled his eyes, "where the hell is that bus?" "Bus," Bosco opened his eyes, "someone needs a bus? I'll call for one." His hand reaching up to his shoulder, then falling back into the water as his head rolled down to his chest. "Bosco," Fred afraid now lifted his head back up, "stay with me okay? I'm here with you, come on, stay with me now." He released him, stepping back.

Suddenly Bosco lurched up crying out, hands reaching for air as he lifted them from the water. "NOOO!" then he was falling from the ledge into the deeper water. Fred caught him, holding him up. "OKAY," lifting him, "that's long enough to be in this crap, and they're taking too damn long to get here to help you. I'm taking you out of here myself. Hope I'm doing the right thing Bosco. Come on." Fred half carried him to the doorway, Bosco at first on his feet, but as Fred tried to get him up the steps he began to go completely out again. Now Fred was forced to pick him up like he did Charlie when he fell asleep on the couch and had to be carried to bed. "Don't EVER let anybody know I did this shit Bosco," he growled laughing, "not even Faith." Bosco mumbled but Fred didn't understand what he was trying to say, then he was limp.  
  
Coming up the last stairs out of the basement hallway, Fred was met by the paramedics who helped put Bosco on the stretcher. Quickly taking him out of the building, to the bus, Fred was somewhat surprised to see the water was nearly gone from this side of the building. He helped them load him into the Ambulance patting the door to let the driver know they were closed.  
  
Returning to Charlie, "DAD! Was that Uncle B?" he was asked by a very upset Charlie. "Yeah,": looking over at him, "he had a bit of an accident, has to go to the hospital now." "Are we going with him?" Charlie wide-eyed questioned. "Not," Fred started to tell him no, that they would go home and call Faith and she would go, but something in Charlies face stopped him, "do you think we should?"

Charlie looked hard at Fred frowning a bit. "Dad," he quietly informed Fred, "it's Uncle B. When you had your heart attack he found you and got you and Mom to the hospital. Then he came and got us. He was worried about you. When Mom got hurt last year he was worried about her, he stayed outside our house just in case she needed anything! He's Uncle B. We have to go Dad, he would if you got hurt! Dad, he's family!"

Fred stared in shock at his son for a few moments. Starting the truck he faced forward a half smirk of admission on his face as he half shook half nodded his head, "Yeah Charlie I guess you're right, he would at that." Glancing over at him as he pulled out, "Family huh Charlie?" "Family." Charlie made it a statement clean and simple.  
  
The next afternoon:  
  
Bosco woke up with a splitting headache, but he was dry and he was warm. Opening his eyes he was startled to hear someone talking to him.

"Well," Fred grinned remarking, "It's about time. Only been a whole day since you got here." "Fred?" he questioned, rolling his head gingerly in the direction of the voice to see it was indeed Fred.

"Yeah?" Fred replied, "You were expecting a good looking woman I know, but you got me instead, sorry." The grin on his face belied the 'sorrow' in his voice as he spoke.

"What? Where am I?" Bosco began to assess his 'injuries' as he looked around the room.

"What? As in what happened?" Fred hummed, "Storm from hell evidently, door locks put in backwards....I think, could have just been wrong locks to begin with, lets see, broken window, flooding, concussion...still not sure how you managed that one, and near drowning with hypothermia. You know just another day for you."

"HUH?" Bosco blinked at him, putting his hand to his head which he was sure had to have been near one hell of an explosion to feel this bad, remembering suddenly, "Oh man, did we miss the game?" Fred laughed quietly, "Uh, yeah. But don't worry, when you get out of here, Charlie already has the next one planned. Only this time he says you have to sleep on our couch so you don't make him miss another game."

Now Bosco was staring at him, "Yeah I can see that happening." "Hey," Fred smiled at him, knowing what he was about to say would give him heartburn soon, but sometimes you just have to say it, "for Uncle B? We'll even let you have a pillow if you promise not to snore."

"I don't snore," Bosco defended himself before and as what Fred was saying sank in. "Yeah right," Fred cracked, "that's why the plaster is coming off the wall next to you." A slow smile had begun to spread across Bosco's face as he 'caught' what Fred was telling him, now he was despite his pounding head, beginning to laugh.

Nodding slowly at Fred, "I didn't find the ball." He was now remembering what happened. "That's okay," Fred sat looking at him, "I'm sure we'll find it when we get rid of all the ruined stuff from the flood." "We?" Bosco furrowed his brow, "You're gonna help me clean it up?" "Yeah," Fred got up, "after all as my son pointed out to me, I owe you one. And besides isn't that what friends are for? Helping each other, and," Fred looked down a moment then looking up at him, "forgiving each other too?"

Bosco's eyes widened, he swallowed hard, nodding suddenly, "That's what someone just said to me. Mikey said that to me." "Sounds like your brother got something right, huh Bosco?" Fred saddened by the look on his face, knowing what he'd been through with Mikey.

"Yeah, think I ever will Fred?" He sighed putting his head back wincing as even the pillow seemed hard right now. "I think you already did Bosco," Fred standing now, put his hand on his shoulder squeezing gently, "after all if you hadn't been looking for Faith, and for me that night of my heart attack, the Docs said I would have died. Then, I wouldn't have been there yesterday to help you and you according to the Docs would have died. So yeah, I think even with the mistakes you've made, you got some things right."  
  
"You found me?" Bosco looked surprised, "You," he frowned a half memory stirring, "got me out, saved my life. I remember, I think." "Yeah," Fred smirked, "well don't spread it around okay? I have a reputation to uphold. Everyone's still waiting for me to kick your butt." Bosco grinned, but wisely kept silent. "I'll go get a nurse," Fred commented, "and Charlie's about to bust waiting for you to wake up. Faith took him to the cafeteria, I'll go get them. He wants to make sure Uncle B is okay."

"Thank you Fred," Bosco smiled, lifting his head from the pillow, "tell him 'I will be now', will you?" Fred just grinned, nodding as he left the room.  
  
Bosco lay back against the pillow again, his head still killing him with the pain.  
  
The pain in his heart however, now he knew wouldn't kill him.  
  
'Family Moe, remember we'll always be family. You told me that.' Mikey's voice drifting to him from the fort wall, 'Now they'll always be your family too if you let them Moe. Let them Moe.'  
  
Nodding as he drifted back to sleep, "I will Mikey, I'll remember, family always."  
  
The End


End file.
